March

Day 0

The first day of many more to come. It was, apparently, meant to be one of the best months to be born in; according to the Irish anyway. 

Twenty one years ago, on St Patrick's day, I came about. Born in to the nicest of Cuban families, with an older brother who had more attitude than that of the models on vogue, and an absent father, for the most part.

According to my abuelita, because my mother was a nurse, and great one at that, I was to be protected, as if my bones were that of glass.

When my little sister, Hanna, was born, our lives changed. We, still, were ridiculed by the strangers on the street; we were somehow the only Cuban family in the entire district, yet people would always target me. I had visibly more Hispanic features, from my dark hair, dark eyes and olive skin, and I was fluent in Spanish. But so were the Russian couple who moved in next door to us. The English couple on the other side of us spoke Spanish too.

That was it.

I had no other signs of being Cuban, unless my abuelita was there.

"Daisy!" A voice brought me out of my thoughts. Within seconds, my mother popped her head round the corner of the door frame. She looked tired and ready for sleep, but not when she had a double shift at the local hospital.

"Don't forget where your tablets are, sweetheart. Can you make sure that Hanna gets to college ok?" She asked, not waiting for a response before she rushed towards our front door.

"Ti amo, madre!" Everyone shouted, including my abuelita.

Hanna wasn't young enough for me to worry much about her, but she had the worst sense of balance, not to mention her ability to not walk in a straight line; or anything close to that in that matter.

"Papito! Get your pancakes before they're cold!" Abuelita called, passing me a Cuban espresso as I sat behind the kitchen bar.

"One day at a time, amor! One day at a time." She added, caressing the side of my head before hitting my brother over the arm as he came rushing in.

He's late. Xander doesn't usually come barging in, grabbing hot food with his bare hands for no reason. I can already feel him about to blame me.

"DAISY! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WAKE ME UP!" His voice was loud and he looked angry.

"Papito. You're sister is ill and you expect her to be at your beck and call? Apologise otherwise you will be sorry." Abuelita said, standing by my side.

His face grew emotionless and his mouth looked as though it had been glued together. Proves him right to blame me for something I have literally no control over.

"Get to work and we will discuss this when you get back." She added, pointing to the door with her small hand.

The slam of the door shook the entire house, enough so to bring Hanna into the kitchen. That girl could sleep through earthquakes and still wouldn't know what happened.

"Today is the beginning of something new." I said, looking back and forth between abuelita and Hanna.

I just had to take it one day at a time, one day at a time, dear Daisy.